


Bruises

by consultingshipper



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:59:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingshipper/pseuds/consultingshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock gets a shock when John is assaulted. He wants to replace the pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock was reclining on the sofa watching his secret pleasure, The Jeremy Kyle Show, he snorted with derision at their stupidity. His phone began to buzz next to him and he considered not answering, it was only Lestrade, but he was beginning to feel bored so he hope there might be a case for him.

"Lestrade," He greeted.

"Hey Sherlock."

"Can I help you with something? Another case got you stumped?" He said smugly.

"Actually it's not a case, you need to keep calm and behave rationally, it's nothing too serious." Lestrade sounded nervous.

"For goodness sake, Lestrade, spit it out would you."

"It's John, he was brought into Saint Barts, he's been beaten up pretty badly."

Sherlock felt his blood run cold, his vision clouded over. John had been hurt. Some worthless scum had hurt John. His John.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade called into the phone when he received no reaction, "I've sent someone to pick you up, just be outside in 5 minutes." The line went dead, but Sherlock still found himself trapped where he was. He took a few deep breaths and tried to focus, the most important thing right now was John and getting to John, he just needed to go downstairs and wait for the car to get him. He pulled himself up from the sofa slowly, feeling weak and unsteady and gradually gained confidence in his balance, grabbed his coat and pulled it on as he headed downstairs.

He stepped out of the front door and glanced around, he couldn't be expected to wait for one of Lestrade's imbeciles to amble over to his house. Mycroft always had a car hanging around him, it was just a matter of spotting it, which honestly wasn't too difficult.

The black car with blackout windows stuck out like a sore thumb and Sherlock bundled himself into the back of it immediately.

"Mr Holmes, unusual to see you here," a nameless, faceless chauffeur greeted, "where to?"

"Saint Barts hospital, fast as possible." Sherlock demanded.

"Of course, sir." The car pulled away smoothly and was soon speeding towards the hospital. Sherlock drummed his fingers against his thigh, intermittently between tapping his foot.

His deep thoughts plotting revenge were interrupted by the driver, "Here we are sir, do you need me to wait?"

"I don't know, probably, maybe not." Sherlock didn't want to talk to this man, he wanted to talk to John.

"Okay, well I'll be outside if you need me."

Sherlock burst out of the car and hurried into the hospital, nearly flying straight past Lestrade, who put a hand on his chest to slow him down.

"Move Lestrade, I need to get to him. Where is he?" Sherlock whipped his head around frantically.

"Hey, hey, calm down, he's fine, just take a deep breath. Come with me I'll show you where he is." Lestrade began walking away, Sherlock right on his heels.

"You will tell me everything that happened after I have seen him, and then I will have free reign over this case. This will not go unpunished." Sherlock barked at Lestrade as they slowed outside of a private room.

"Yeah sure." Lestrade didn't seem to mind letting Sherlock do what he liked to the bastards who did this, he was pretty fond of John himself.

Sherlock nodded absently at Lestrade, dismissing him as he gently opened the door to John's room and slipped in. His breath caught as he saw his lover looking so small in a hospital gown, his face decorated with a black eye and a bruise spreading across his right cheekbone.

"John," Sherlock breathed, barely above a whisper.

"Hey," John replied, equally quiet.

Sherlock stayed pressed against the door until John lifted his hand a little and motioned with his head for Sherlock to come closer, "Come here love."

Sherlock took the room in two steps, collapsing onto the bed near John's hip, his fingers reaching out to trace the dark patterns against John's skin.

"John." He whispered again.

"I know," John whispered in return, "it looks worse than it is, I'm fine honestly."

Sherlock leaned his head down to press his forehead gently against John's, "You idiot." He muttered, his voice cracking.

John chuckled, "I know, I'm sorry."

Sherlock's throat felt tight and his voice seemed thick, "I'm never letting you out of my sight again, clearly you can't be trusted."

"Okay, deal." John agreed, a smile in his voice.

Sherlock finally leaned his head down fully and kissed John gently against his lips, "God, John. I cant..." He trailed off.

"Shh," John soothed, combing his fingers though Sherlock's hair, "I'm here, its fine, just bad luck, could have happened to anyone."

"I don't care about anyone, I care about you." Sherlock muttered stubbornly.

"I know, but its fine, I'm fine."

Sherlock huffed out a huge breath, leaning himself against John comfortably. Johns strong arms wrapped around the detective, pulling him as close as he could.


	2. Chapter 2

They stayed wrapped up in each other for a while, finally breaking apart when a nurse came in to check on John. She smiled and asked John a few questions, checking his injuries efficiently she left quickly. Sherlock avoiding eye contact with her or any conversation.

"How long will you be here?" Sherlock asked once she'd left.

"I'm not sure, should be an overnight stay at the longest."

Sherlock nodded, "Would you like me to go home and fetch you some clothes? Your toothbrush?"

"I could probably do with a change of clothes, but I don't really want to be away from you for a little while yet."

"Good, you won't be allowed to be out of my sight for the rest of your life anyway."

John chuckled, he knew Sherlock was shaken up by this and was just trying to mask it with stubbornness.

"How about you ask your brother to send one of his minions to get some things?" John suggested.

Sherlock crinkled his nose in displeasure, "I don't want his people riffling through our things."

"You mean you don't want them to see you underwear."

John was laughing and it made Sherlock happy, despite it being at his expense.

"Some of us have dignity." He replied coolly, feigning annoyance.

"Really, how splendid." John replied, letting his laughter die down.

Sherlock moved back towards John's bed and sat near his hip again.

"Don't..." He tried, "Please, John, I can't lose you." He stroked a hand against John's bruised and battered face.

John reached up to hold onto Sherlock's wrist gently, "It's okay. You're not going to lose me, ever." He said firmly, love laced into his every word.

"You don't know that, you can't know what's going to happen!" Sherlock was crumbling before John's eyes and it hurt worse than the beating he had suffered.

"Then how come I do?" He said lightly, his voice weak with compassion.

Sherlock sagged forward, curling into John, who gently pulled himself into a more upright position and buried his face in Sherlock's hair, swaying him gently and Sherlock tried to calm down. John's heart clenched when a shaky sound, almost like a sob, came from Sherlock, but no more followed and he relaxed back into holding Sherlock close to him.

After a while Sherlock brought his head up and stared John directly in the eyes. Then he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss onto the eyelid of John's bruised eye, John smiled, touched by the gesture. But Sherlock did not stop there, he kissed slowly along John's cheekbone, and then drew his lips back, searching for more injuries.

He stroked the stiff material of the hospital gown, before pulling the loose knots apart and removing it from John's upper half. He was shocked for a moment to see the extent of the bruising against John's chest and shoulders, but he recovered quickly and leaned down to press more kisses against John's collar bones, suckling at the spot where John's neck and shoulders met. John groaned, arching his chest up towards Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled and lowered himself more, kissing his way down to John's nipples and playing with them until they were hard and tender, he licked them gently causing John to writhe and moan, but John stopped him as he tried to move lower.

"No Sherlock. Not here." He gasped.

"John," Sherlock grumbled, "Why not, you're clearly enjoying yourself!"

"Sherlock no, as soon as we get home I promise!" John said sincerely, he wasn't too pleased about stopping either, but he wasn't comfortable going any further here.

Sherlock sighed, before fixing Johns gown and puling himself close against John, letting John's lolling head rest against his chest and stroking his hands through Johns hair and over his shoulders.

*********

The next morning Sherlock was grumpy, he didn't like hospitals, he didn't like sleeping in them and he especially hated them when John was lying injured in one.

"He's fine, why can't we just go!" He snapped at a nurse who was talking to John, telling him to take it easy and not to strain himself until he felt completely better.

"Hush Sherlock, we'll be leaving soon." John chastised, equally as eager to be leaving as Sherlock was, he hadn't forgotten the promise from last night, and Sherlock clearly hadn't judging by his narky behaviour.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry its been so long, I know I promised this update weeks ago, but things have been kind of crazy lately and this is the first time Ive really felt like getting back to writing so it might be a little rough, so sorry about that. Its short and hopefully quite sweet.
> 
> Let me know in a review if you enjoy!

Sherlock glanced up from the newspaper he was reading as John prepared some tea for them both. The sleeve of John's jumped pulled back a little as he reached for the milk, revealing a yellowing bruise that made Sherlock's insides clench and his hands tighten on the newspaper.

Sherlock had seen John's bruises frequently in their many stages since the attack, but he had thought them to be all gone by now and the sight of this caught him off guard. "John," he murmured, his throat feeling tight.

John looked up and noticed where Sherlock's gaze was fixed and looked shocked himself when he saw the mark on the outside of his wrist. "It's okay," John reassured Sherlock, "I hadn't even noticed it, it doesn't hurt and it's nearly gone anyway."

Sherlock shook his head and dropped his paper to the table, he stood up and made his way toward John, catching Johns hand lightly and bringing it up to his lips, enabling Sherlock to kiss the injury gently.

John smiled faintly up at Sherlock, concerned by the strong reaction Sherlock had towards the minor injury. He lifted his free hand up and caught Sherlock's jaw, "I love you." He said.

A small smile lit up Sherlock's face as he let go of John's arm, leaning in for a proper kiss, "I love you too, more than anything." Sherlock whispered before placing a warm kiss against John's lips. John turned so he could hold onto his lover more easily, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulling himself flush against him.

Sherlock scattered kisses all over John's face and John returned many with equal passion. His hands drifted up into Sherlock's thick hair, gripping gently as Sherlock let his own hands slide smoothly down John's sides.

"Never again," Sherlock breathed into John's hair, "I'm going to keep you safe."

"It's okay, Sherlock. It's not your fault, you can't protect me all of the time."

"Watch me."

John chuckled and then connected his lips with Sherlock's once more, they kissed for a long while, tongues tangling and just getting lost in each other's presence.

When they eventually pulled apart, pupils dilated and lips swollen and reddened the smiled seductively at one another. Sherlock tugged John's hand and led him towards their bedroom.

***

John fell onto his back, panting quietly, skin covered with a sheen of sweat. He reached out to find Sherlock's hand, joining their fingers together and pushing his head to the side to watch Sherlock doze off to a quite slumber.

He stroked Sherlock's face gently, pressing kisses to the knuckles of the hand he was holding.

"Sleep tight, love."


End file.
